


Wouldn’t Be Christmas Without You

by DearLazerBunny



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Morning, First Christmas, M/M, Original Character(s), Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-26 23:03:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13867857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearLazerBunny/pseuds/DearLazerBunny
Summary: Carlos is lovingly forced to come home for Christmas for the first time in years. Of course, Cecil will come along. But can the two navigate the seemingly impossible disconnect between the Voice of Night Vale and the normal world?





	1. T-Minus Nine Days

This was, officially, the worst week ever.

Carlos hurried across the lab, painfully hip-checking a rolling metal counter, and silenced the blaring klaxon alarm that had been emitting ear-splitting shrieks for, according to the mildly-curious-but-mostly-angry phone call from Rico next door, close to an hour now. 

He sighed, doing an agitated equipment check to confirm his readings, and yes, it really did appear that the air pressure in Night Vale had inexplicably dropped to well below normal range. Carlos pulled aside the window covering behind his desk. People were still walking in and out of Big Rico’s, still driving their cars. He did spot one dizzy and vaguely terrified male wobbling across the street, but he was willing to chalk that up to the somber parade of Black Hooded Figures ghosting along behind him.

Letting the blinds flutter back over the late afternoon sun, he cast around for the first available clipboard that wasn’t smoking, broken in half, or glowing faintly:

Phenomenon/Experience/Collective Dream/Scheduled Hallucination:  _air pressure approx 23.9 psi_

Date: _???_

Notes:  _no visible affects_

Response: 

He paused, contemplating, then resigned and filled in with a heavy hand:

Response:  _none_

He had bigger fish to fry.

Of his two years in Night Vale, he’d never experienced such a catastrophic, sequential mass failure. It has started simply enough, with a small, odd explosion in Desert Creek. Preliminary reports indicated it was due to a gas leak, or the abnormally high temperatures they’d been experiencing, or some other mundane circumstance, but further investigation proved that the explosion just… happened. In thin air. With no apparent cause or trigger. And that wouldn’t have been so bad, if these random, unpredictable explosions hadn’t spread all over town. They had a particular affinity for retail spaces, bathrooms, and the backseats of cars. Needless to say, the Night Vale General Hospital had an influx of burn unit victims that week. 

Next was the glow cloud rampage, which had decided to drop the carcasses of larger animals, such as deer, antelopes, horses, and the occasional zebra, which had caused massive structural damage to some key places around town, including City Hall, both public schools, and the Arby’s. The floating lights were none too happy about their place of residence (if you could call it ‘residence’) sustaining damage, and decided to retaliate by scorching the ground multiple times, creating large craters that often took a day or so to cross. A particularly massive zebra had crumbled the south wall of the Dog Park, which meant City Council was issuing mass mind wipes to erase any memory of what might’ve crawled out of the Dog Park in its wrecked state. Mayor Pamela Winchell, too, was in the throes of some new conspiracy, making statements and then redacting them several times a day.

A musty blood rain had rolled in from the sand wastes, coating the entire town in thick dried rust, Old Woman Josie’s angels had been heralding some sort of news for the better part of four days now, the miniature city that resided under the bowling alley (Carlos relied on Teddy for those updates, he didn’t go anywhere near them) had decided to infiltrate Night Vale again, and now the atmospheric pressure was at a level that should instantly flatten them all. To put it bluntly, the entire town had been in utter mayhem for the better part of a month. Even though Carlos could only even try to tackle a third of it (he was only a scientist after all, not a politician or doctor or deity), that small portion of chaos he had tried to tackle had left him running ragged for weeks. Tests and data and reports being filled only to run more tests that contradicted those reports and data that couldn’t be recorded on any chart Carlos had ever seen. 

He hadn’t actually gone home in a week or so, and just when he thought he might be able to (god forbid) do something crazy like sleep or eat a proper meal or wash the mysterious stains out of his lab coat, some new emergency would pop up and he’d be right back in the thick of things. He’d only been able to exchange the occasional text message with Cecil- not dead, hope you aren’t either- who was holed up in the station dutifully reporting every twist and turn the town had thrown at them. Carlos listened to the show, of course, and he hated to hear the exhaustion creeping into his voice, normally flippant tones heavy and flat. He had managed to see him once (how long ago was that? Five days? Six? What day was it?) and they had only managed a few terse and worried words before the hissing from Station Management’s office had efficiently sent Carlos on his way.

He flipped his stack of charts shut and rubbed his eyes with heavy limbs. The red alerts seemed to be slowing down, and Carlos really, desperately wanted a nap. He’d slept on his desk many times as a grad student, and he’d do it again. He was considering using his balled-up lab coat as a pillow like the grown-ass man he was when the desk phone rang.

God damnit.

Carlos eyed the phone, wondering how much bad karma he would incur if he ended the call and left the phone off the hook. Anyone important (Cecil, and… Cecil) would call his cell. Actually, anyone in Night Vale could now reach him through his cell because in a fit of admittedly adorable excitement, Cecil had artfully blabbed his number in the middle of his show sometime after their sixth date. Despite the Verizon ads routinely played on the radio, there didn’t seem to be a store anywhere in or near Night Vale that he had seen. With no way to change his number, he was stuck with the general population calling him “just to chat” or to “eat some of this melon bread I just made” or “come do science on my house, it just decided to become sentient and trap us all in the basement.” (He actually did drive out to that one. He wasn’t heartless.)

_Note to self: how do phones work in NV?? Must research_

Which begged the question… who was there left to call him?

Groaning, he snatched up the receiver and jammed it between his shoulder and his ear, kicking his feet off his desk to turn his chair in lazy circles.

“Hello, this is Carlos. Yes, Carlos the scientist. I’m going to give you some advice: don’t call me during a crisis. If you’re on fire, go to the hospital. If your loved one has joined the Whispering Forest, I’m really sorry, but we haven’t worked out a way to reverse that yet-”

“Carlos- Carlos, are you there?” He heard crackling, and then a low moaning sound that always signified a long distance call from outside Night Vale. “This reception is terrible. Carlos, honey, can you hear me?”

Carlos’ brow furrowed. “Who… _Mom_?”

He heard a huff on the other end of the line. “Of course it’s your mother, who else would it be?” 

“Why are you calling me? And… how’d you even get this number?”

“Oh, you gave it to me about a year or so ago. And I’m calling because you won’t answer your cell phone.”

Carlos glanced at his phone, after digging it out from under a stack of files that looked like they’d been… chewed on? 34 missed calls, 117 text messages, and… the red bubble over the email icon wasn’t even in numerals _.  
_

_Note to Self: Register for Sumerian classes @ NV CC_

“Anyways, Carlos, I was just calling-“

“Wait.” He stopped spinning, stomach suddenly dropping. “Is Des okay? Is she sick? Did something happen?”

“No- Carlos! Your sister is _fine_. Stop thinking for a moment and I will _tell you_ why I called.”

He paused, briefly, before sinking back in his chair. “Right. Yes. Sorry. Just… hectic day.” Days. Weeks.

“I’m sure. My son has a very important job, and I know he doesn’t like to be interrupted, which is why you’d think he’d placate his mother by calling her every once in a while. Or emailing. Preferably with photos, and something that’s more than three lines long.” 

Her voice was simultaneously warm, motherly, and also so dry he could see the tumbleweeds rolling past. As only mothers can do.

“Sorry, sorry. I just lost track of time, and then-“

“-you forget. Yes, yes, how many times have I heard that one,” she mused. He heard a pot clank, and then a muffled thump-

“Des! Dinner!”

Carlos winced and held the receiver away from his ear. “Well it sounds like I need to let you let you go-“

“Ha! Don’t think you’re getting away that easily mister.” More clanking, a hiss of steam, and then stillness. “My real question is, are you coming home for Christmas?” 

He blinked. “Christmas…? Isn’t that…” His hands fumbled with his desk calendar, which was still turned to April.

“Dios mío, boy, you’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached to your shoulders.”  
He waited.

“It’s in nine days, Carlos. It’s December sixteenth.”

He blinked again. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. No one’s actually seen you in two years, I’d say a visit’s long overdue. Your sister misses you.” 

He snorted. “Des misses me, right. That sounds plausible.”

“Really, Carlos, this is not the time to be arguing with me- Des! Your butt better be in the dining room! - You could bring someone, if you wanted? Are you and, what’s his name, Kevin? still together?”

He’d mentioned Cecil to her once, right after their first date. Where the hell had she gotten Kevin from? “Cecil. His name is Cecil, and yes, we’re still, um. Together.”

“Good! Bring him,” she said conversationally, in a tone that brooked no argument. Which is fine, of course he would bring Cecil, but… could people even leave Night Vale? He’d never heard of it happening.

“I’ll let you know. Tomorrow,” he added lamely.”I just need to check on some- well, several things. First.” 

He heard a rush of static, and mentally replaced it with an annoyed sigh like he knew it was supposed to be. “All right, fine. Just, try, okay? For me.”

“Always,” Carlos nodded, caught unawares by the unexpected lump in his throat. “Tomorrow, I promise.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ve heard it all before.” He heard another clang, and he could see her bustling around the kitchen in the embarrassing handprint-covered apron he’d made her when he was five that she insisted on wearing when cooking, fragrant steam rising off the stove. “I’ve got to go, honey. I love you.”

“Love you too. Good ni-“ He heard the receiver click. Just as well, he felt like he was about to fall asleep where he sat. Every so slowly, he stood and started shutting cabinets and turning off burners, already dreading the drive but yearning the home that’s at the end of it. 

Christmas. He shook his head. He could have sworn a few weeks ago was July.


	2. T-Minus 7 Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos is lovingly forced to come home for Christmas for the first time in years. Of course, Cecil will come along. But can the two navigate the seemingly impossible disconnect between the Voice of Night Vale and the normal world?

The fact that he woke with Cecil spooned up next to him, one arm draped possessively over his side, help ease the disappointment that he was , in fact, awake. For a while he just lay there, enjoying the peace and warmth; lazily tracking the dust that swirled through the air, highlighted by the sunlight streaming through the window. Then, with heavy limbs, Carlos fumbled his mobile off the nightstand and checked the time: 4:13 in the afternoon.

Cecil was still asleep, unceremoniously sprawled out on his side of the bed like pins has been pulled from his joints. His glasses were askew on his face; he must have fallen asleep in them. Snoring softly, with lines of worry erased from his face, he looked about ten years younger than… Well. Carlos didn’t actually know how old Cecil was. When asked, Cecil would roll his eyes and say, “34; coincidentally old enough to know that asking about people’s age is rude, thank you very much.” But while catching up on all the episodes he missed during his unfortunate adventure in the alternate-reality-desert-with-mysteriously-excellent-wifi, he heard a recording of an (adorably) young Cecil broadcasting his first episode in… 1930. Now, Carlos had long ago given up on the hope that Night Vale would follow reasonably realistic timelines. Wibbly wobbly timey wimey, and all that. But the thought that he was technically in bed with a man over ninety years old who didn’t look a day over thirty and has a penchant for cute cat videos on Facebook-  
  
Was tucked deep, deep in the back of his mind. And thought about as little as possible.  
  
Dismissing the thought to the “contemplate only when drunk” section of his brain, he gently leaned over and brushed a few soft kisses to Cecil’s jawline. Carlos saw him smile a bit, but he didn’t open his eyes, meaning he was being stubborn about waking up.

“Good morning.” There was a response- he thinks. It was hard to tell when one’s voice is muffled though layers of feathers.

“Mumbrlf.”

Carlos laughed gently, brushing away bedhead that had fallen in front of his face. “Didn’t quite catch that.”  
“I said-” Cecil raised his head a bit before flopping it back down into his pillow. “It’s late afternoon.”  
Cecil had this weird uncanny ability to always know what time it was in Night Vale. Or he was just a good guesser. Hard to know, really.

“Well then, it’s the perfect time to wake up!”

“Carlos. That is the most hurtful thing you have ever said to me, including the time you didn’t like my melon bread recipe.”

“Come ooooooon.” Carlos pulled the crooked glasses off the other man’s face and straightened them, cleaning the lens with the hem of his t-shirt. “You’re always up early, I’m surprised at you.”

Nothing but a long, heartfelt groan from the other side of the bed. 

“Okay, you leave me no choice…” Slowly, before Cecil could notice, Carlos carefully set the glasses back on the bridge of his nose- then attacked Cecil’s neck with his fingertips, causing him to spasm and shriek.

“Carlos! That is hardly fair! CarLOS!” A laugh burbled out of him despite his protests and the tickle war raged for minutes, with both sides incurring massive losses. Pillows all over the floor, bedsheets askew, and Cecil had requisitioned the comforter as a sort of shield, leaving him hopelessly entangled.

“I didn’t think this one through,” he mumbled, trying to unweave himself from the massive fluffy duvet he insisted on sleeping with, even in the middle of the desert. Carlos helped him unravel and both men sat there, panting, happy in the comfortable silence that only comes with a severe understanding of the person beside you.   
Cecil’s eyes were fluttering, but Carlos was very awake, having remembered the phone call yesterday. Christmas. He eyed his sleepy boyfriend. Now probably wasn’t the best time to ask… unless it was. Sleepy Cecil meant no overcomplicated explanations about the likely very complicated Rules of Leaving Night Vale. 

“Cecil.” He gave the other man a quick shake of the shoulder. “I need to ask you something.”

Cecil went from giving him the stink eye to wide-eyed and eager almost immediately. “Yes, my dearest Carlos?” (He actually talked like that, honest to god, all the time. Like he was in a romance novel or something. Carlos secretly kinda liked it though.)

“Do you…” Carlos bit his lip, trying to figure out the best way to word this. “How do you feel about Christmas?”   
Cecil blinked. “Well… I suppose it’s not as prolific as the annual sacrifice to Santa Clause, but I have no animosity towards it.”  
Right. “Okay. So. How would you feel spending Christmas… with me?”

The blonde looked offended that he would even ask. “Quite frankly, I’m offended you would even ask, Carlos. Everyone knows the sacrifices must be made with a loved one, lest the benevolent Santa Clause become Krampus, and eat up the entire class of kids of 1984 again.”

“Okay, sure, but like… spending Christmas with my family. At home. Well, my home. Old home. Outside of Night Vale.”

Light dawned in his eyes. “Ooooooooh. Your mother and sister, yes?”

“Yup. Little bit outside of Albuquerque.” 

“Well that sounds perfectly delightful.”

Carlos grinned. “Yeah?”

“Of course. Carlos, you would have met my mother ages ago, if there was one to meet.”

It was a rare moment when Cecil mentioned his mom. Carlos took his hand and squeezed. “Okay then. It’s settled? I know it’s short notice, but my mom called yesterday, and I didn’t know about the rules for leaving…”  
Cecil stared at him like he had grown two heads. Carlos quickly patted both sides of his neck to make sure he hadn’t. “Rules for leaving?”

“Yeah. Like, paperwork, or a visa, or a… blood sacrifice…”

He looked mystified. “I’ll put in a request to city council, and perhaps Dana, though there isn’t any such rules as far as I know.”

“You mean people can just… leave?”

“Well of course. It’s not like we’re in the quarantined underground bunkers.”

Huh. “Then why don’t they…?” _Leave? Escape this insanity? Run like the wind?_

The crease between Cecil’s eyebrows was adorable, and Carlos had to quell the urge to kiss it smooth. “I’m not exactly sure what you’re asking, Carlos. Leave? Why would we leave? Night Vale is our home.”  
Carlos looked at the man laying next to him, practically glowing in a halo of light streaming in from the window. Outside, Night Vale would be closing up- the Ralph’s, Big Rico’s, the radio station- for a night of everything Carlos would have done when he lived in his hometown: dinner, homework, watching TV. It was easy to forget how normal Night Vale could be, sometimes. 

The scientist smiled, giving in to the urge to kiss him, and he did so with a newfound piece of love lodged in his heart. “You’re right. As always,” he teased, giving the other man a peck on the lips as well. “Breakfast for dinner?”


	3. T- Minus Five Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos is lovingly forced to come home for Christmas for the first time in years. Of course, Cecil will come along. But can the two navigate the seemingly impossible disconnect between the Voice of Night Vale and the normal world?

“So what is Christmas like for you?”

“Well, usually it’s just the three of us- mom, Des, and I. We have dinner Christmas Eve and spend the evening together, and then the next morning is a big breakfast and opening presents. Basic stuff, nothing fancy.”

“So no special attire required? Do I need to bring my furry pants?”

“Um… no. What you wear normally is just fine.”

“And what will be served at dinner?”

“Um, gosh, well, she usually makes ham and turkey with gravy, stuffing, green beans, dinner rolls. The usual.”

“Carlos.”

“Cecil.”

“I cannot condone the consumption of wheat and wheat by-products on an eve of special occasion.”

“I- right. Okay. You can just not eat them, how about that?”

“Is your family aware of the dangers of wheat and wheat by-products?” 

“I’m sure they are, they just-”

“Choose to ignore the dangers?! Carlos this is completely unacceptable-”

“Cecil. Honey. Remember when we had a talk about how Night Vale does some things differently than the rest of the world?”

“Yes.”

“This is one of those times.”

“Along with no sacrifices to Santa Claus, no giving weapons or other emergency-preparedness materials as gifts, and no discussing the hooded figures.”

“Exactly. Good job.”

“…though I must say the lack of emergency supplies at a festive event is rather alarming.”

_Sigh._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos is lovingly forced to come home for Christmas for the first time in years. Of course, Cecil will come along. But can the two navigate the seemingly impossible disconnect between the Voice of Night Vale and the normal world?

“Okay. We’ve got clothes, shoes, toothbrushes, extra blankets, snacks for the car… what are we forgetting?”

“Well, you’re forgetting the ritual for good luck on long journeys, but I took care of that last night, so you needn’t worry.”

“Awesome, thank you.” The two of them were standing in the faint early morning light, surveying the boot of Carlos’ car with a weary eye. “Oh, shit, did we get the gifts?”

“Ah. I’ll run back in and get them.”

Shopping was surprisingly not as difficult as Carlos had imagined. The wonders of Amazon prime managed to extend even to Night Vale (is there anything Amazon couldn’t do?) so gifts weren’t restricted to the Ralph’s or Night Vale’s pawn shop, thank god. Des was going to get a iTunes gift card, since he had no idea what she even listened to nowadays, and his mom got some nice earrings she could wear to church. He was pretty sure she still went to church. And Cecil’s gift was tucked carefully into his duffel bag- he didn’t trust it out in the open.

Cecil, for his part, was adamantly refusing to tell Carlos what he had gotten for his family, which only worried Carlos 29%. Well, maybe 35%. They were wrapped neatly in old sheets of newspaper- please don’t let either of them read any of the headlines- and tied with twine. It was cute, in a desert-rustic sort of way. Carlos only also saw two presents, so he hoped he wasn’t breaking some long-standing Night Vale tradition by giving his SO a gift. 

“Ready to roll?”

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

“CARLOS!”

His mother came rushing out to meet them before they had even properly pulled up from the house, which made Cecil beam with excitement, a bouquet of flowers in his hand to present to her. Once he got out, she hugged him so fiercely he thought he might choke, despite her being a full four heads shorter than he was. “Hey, mom. Good to see you too.”

She pulled away and looked expectantly behind him, where Cecil was standing shyly. “Mom, this is my boyfriend, Cecil. Cecil, mom.”

“For you.” He proffered the bouquet. “For your lovely home, as a thank you for hosting us.”

His mom looked speechless as she took them. “Finally, a boy with manners! Where have you been all of Carlos’ life? It’s wonderful to meet you, dear.” She air kissed him on one cheek, which he returned with surprising grace. “Let’s get you two settled in, hm? Dinner should be in a few hours.”

After unloading the trunk, they followed her into the house. Desiree was curled up on the couch, earbuds in, tapping her foot in the air to some unheard beat. After dropping the presents under the tree in one corner, Carlos went over and plucked an earbud out of her left ear. “Hey. Merry Christmas.”

She didn’t even open her eyes. “Ah, the prodigal dork returns. Fewer presents for me this year, such a shame.”

“Des, be nice, there’s someone you have to meet.”

That did warrant an eye cracked open. “Yeah?”

“Des, this is Cecil. My um, boyfriend.”

“Huh.” She eyed him, and Cecil waved back, oblivious to the teenage stink eye bring thrown his way. “You break his heart yet?”

Cecil’s smile faded. “I- uh, well, no, certainly not. And I never hope to.”

“Good answer.” She laid back down. “We should get along fine.”

————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

“And this-” Carlos tugged the stuck door open at the perfect strength. “-is my old room.”

He probably should’ve been embarrassed, what with the microscope and rock samples covering the desk, posters of famous scientists covering the walls. His mom clearly hadn’t changed a single thing. But Cecil seemed right at home the moment he stepped in; the most beautiful oddity among curiosities abound. 

“I think it’s perfect,” he giggled, stretching out on the bed. “I’m very into science, you know.”

Carlos smiled briefly. “Good. That’s- good.”

He sat with him on the bed, throwing an arm over the other man’s shoulders and giving his right a small peck. “Well? What do you think?”

“I think it’s you. They’re you. I can see your eyes in your sister, and your smile in your mother.”

And that was just about the nicest thing he could’ve said in that moment. 


	5. T-Minus One Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos is lovingly forced to come home for Christmas for the first time in years. Of course, Cecil will come along. But can the two navigate the seemingly impossible disconnect between the Voice of Night Vale and the normal world?

“Carlos! Cecil! Dinner is ready!”

Carlos grinned. Was he worried his boyfriend was going to say something weird? Yes. Was he more excited to eat food that wasn’t pizza from Big Rico’s? Double yes. Like a kid, he tumbled down the stairs, hand in hand with Cecil, who looked just as eager. Two grown men running to Christmas supper like two days ago they were ten. 

The spread was massive, with all the traditional holiday foods plus some family traditions mixed in. Cecil was looking at it all with wide eyes, and Carlos couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever had a Christmas like this before. With family, all together. 

The food started with the youngest- Des- and was passed in order of age. Why, Carlos didn’t know, that’s just always how it worked. Carlos had to resist the urge to hand the potatoes to his mom after himself. 

“So, Cecil, what do you do for a living?” 

“I’m a radio host actually, for the town.”

”Wow, impressive! What sorts of things do you report?”

”Well, yesterday, the Glow Cloud went on another rampage-”

”He’s a horror writer!” Carlos blurted out, over a forkful of green beans. “He... writes stories. And broadcasts them. So people can... listen.”

Cecil looked at him strangely. “No, I-”

”He doesn’t like to break character too often,” Carlos chuckled nervously, hoping Cecil would get the hint. “He just can’t stop talking about his stories sometimes.”

His mom nodded. “That’s sweet. So Cecil, what were you saying?”

Cecil took a breath and started tentatively in again on his Glow Cloud story, watching Carlos the entire time as if he had said something wrong. Carlos didnt seem to notice. He was too busy watching his family’s faces to try and gauge their reactions. 

“That sounds cool, honestly,” Des chimed in. The first words she had spoken the entire meal. She fiddled with the earbuds draped over her shoulders. “Sounds like something I would listen to.”

”What were you listening to, if you don’t mind my asking?”

_please be nice, Des, I actually like this man-_

“The name’s squalloscope. You probably haven’t heard of it, she’s pretty underground.”

”Ah, indeed. A beautiful writer. I find big Houses to be especially haunting.”

Des raised an eyebrow. “You... listen to her?”

”I would say I am a casual fan, yes.” Cecil pushed his glasses up with a knuckle and gave her a smile. “What else do you listen to?”

As those two chatted, Carlos couldn’t help the look of pride that spread across his face. Getting along with his mother was one thing, but Des? Whole other story. And here the two were talking away about the pros and cons of headphone qualities, with Cecil describing his own pair of metallic purple headphones he used for the show. His mom looked surprised as well, he noticed. 

“Would anyone like some rolls? They use came out of the oven.”

”No, thanks.” Des stuck a bite of ham in her mouth. “Cecil?”

Cecil glowered, and Carlos could feel the heat rising in his face. Then, a sigh of relief when Cecil simply said, “No, thank you.”

Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big Houses by Squalloscope is featured as The Weather in Ep. 31 of WTNV  
> https://seayou.bandcamp.com/track/big-houses


	6. T-Minus One Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos is lovingly forced to come home for Christmas for the first time in years. Of course, Cecil will come along. But can the two navigate the seemingly impossible disconnect between the Voice of Night Vale and the normal world?

Carlos was humming in the shower.

Dinner had gone off without a hitch. Everyone seemed to love Cecil, and Cecil them; nothing explicitly Night Vale was mentioned, and the food was good. Really, what more could you ask for in a Christmas dinner?

Wrap around his waist and toweling his hair dry, he come back into the room where Cecil was laying on the bed, forearm over his eyes. He sat on the edge of the bed. “Hey, love. You okay?”

To his horror, when Cecil rolled towards him, his eyes were red and puffy with tears. “Carlos... are you embarrassed of me?”

”What? Of course not, Cecil, why would you even ask-”

”Then why did you tell your family I was a writer?” He sniffed, and rubbed his nose on a pocket square produced from his shirt. “That I... made up stories? Is my job not good enough?”

”Oh, god, Cecil, no. Come here.” He pulled the other man into a hug, trying to ignore the breaking his heart was doing in his chest. “That’s not what I meant.”

”Then what did you mean?”

Carlos sighed. “Night Vale is a... unique place. I love it, and you love it, but some people probably wouldn’t get it, or why we love it. I was afraid that you’d be made fun of, if I told them the truth.” He rubbed a finger on the small of Cecil’s back. “I’ve been bullied before. And Des can be harsh. If she thinks you’re weird, you get drop-kicked into next year. I didn’t want you to have to go through that.”

”So telling them I was a writer makes it better?”

Carlos thought for a moment. “It... negated some side effects.”

”I still don’t understand.”

”Cecil, look at me. I am and always will be incredibly proud of you. Never doubt that. But there are some parts of our life I want to remain uniquely ours. And Night Vale is one of them. Does that make sense?”

Cecil slowly nodded. “I believe so.”

”Good.” Carlos gave him a small smile. “Remember how I said no furry pants? Maybe you should wear them tomorrow morning. Give them just a little taste of home, yeah?”

When his boyfriend had the nerve to look embarrassed, Carlos just laughed. “I know you packed them, Cecil. I saw fur shedding from your bag when I put it in the car.”

”I just wanted to look my best!”


	7. T-Minus 0 Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos is lovingly forced to come home for Christmas for the first time in years. Of course, Cecil will come along. But can the two navigate the seemingly impossible disconnect between the Voice of Night Vale and the normal world?

“Cecil, wake up. We’re here.”

“Whuzzit?” Cecil tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes, but only succeeded in setting his glasses askew. It was ridiculously cute. “Where’s here?”

“Come see for yourself.”

Carlos got out of the car toting a travel mug of hot chocolate, breath frosty in the morning air. The sun hadn’t risen yet, which is exactly how he wanted it to be- picturesque, with the sun rising over the peaks into the day. A perfect start to Christmas. 

“Come on, sleepy-pants, we don’t have all day. This is present number one!”

At the mention of present, all the gangly limbs were out of the car in seconds. Carlos laughed. “Okay, close your eyes. Just a few more minutes.”

“If I close y eyes for too long I’ll just fall asleep again.”

“Okay… now.”

All at once, the sky burst into a brilliant pink and orange, muted colors that reflected off the lenses of Cecil’s glasses, making his eyes even more technicolor than normal. He blinked. Blinded again. Opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked back over his shoulder, as if to see if anyone else was seeing this too. Then turned back.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“Merry Christmas Cecil, mountains do, in fact, exist.”

The gasp of pure awe was enough to make Carlos’ breath catch in his throat. “And here I thought… for all this time…”

“Yup.” Carlos grinned at him. “Want a picture?”

Cecil ended up taking it, because his arms were longer. A hideous selfie with wide eyes and tongues sticking out, glee in their faces, the mountain’s peak lit up behind them. Cecil immediately reached over to send it to himself and make it his screensaver. While he was busy, Carlos went to pull out a small box from the glove compartment. He wanted to do this alone.

“I… also got you something else.” He proffered the box awkwardly, and Cecil took it with a small smile.

Cue gasp number two.

“Do... you like it?”

“Do I like it? Carlos… this is perfect.”

A silver ring winked from the velvet box, engraved with tiny stars on the front of the band, multicolored gems set into them so finely you couldn’t tell where the band began and the stone ended. When Cecil put it on his finger and twisted, it shimmered like the northern lights were in the palm of his hand.

“I- Carlos. Is this what I think it is?”

“Um- a tribute to our night at Arby’s? Because then, yes. See on the inside-” there was a little Arby’s engraved o the inside of the metal- “it’s like the lights over the Arby’s.” Carlos gave him a crooked smile. “So you won’t forget.”

“I never would. Not in a million, quintillion years. Thank you, my lovely Carlos.” He pulled Carlos into a hug and buried his face into the other man’s neck, savoring the warmth and the weight of his new gift.

“I’d- I’d like this to be a promise. For us,” Carlos whispered. “It’s not an engagement ring, not yet… but someday, maybe. Until then… you have this.”

“This could be all I ever get and I would be the happiest man alive.”


	8. T-Minus 0 Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos is lovingly forced to come home for Christmas for the first time in years. Of course, Cecil will come along. But can the two navigate the seemingly impossible disconnect between the Voice of Night Vale and the normal world?

Carlos completely forgot that pancakes were a Ramirez family tradition.

He gulped as a giant stack was placed in front of him and Cecil, Des already chowing down in a seat across from them. Carlos winced. “You see, actually, mom-”

“I don’t eat wheat,” Cecil said matter-of-factly, eyeing his plate with distaste.

“Oh that’s okay, Des doesn’t either.”

_Huh?_

Carlos looked across the table at his sister, who waved sarcastically. “Hi, celiac here, remember?”

“Oh, right, shit Des, I’m sorry.”

“Language, Carlos, it’s the holiday.”

Wait.

“Cecil, you know what that means?”

“Hm?”

“No wheat.”

“No… no wheat?”

“Nope. It’s what, rice flour and stuff?” His mom nodded confirmation. “Try it, I promise.”

Cecil carefully cut a bite, liberally applied butter and syrup, and popped it into his mouth. Chewed carefully. Then, Carlos could see his brain exploding.

“These are fantastic! How did you make them?!”

Des shook her head. “How are you allergic to wheat and you’ve never had gluten-free pancakes before? They come in a box now.”

“Night Vale is… slow to pick up on some things, sometimes.” Carlos watched in fascination as half Cecil’s plate disappeared in three bites. “We’ll have to order some online.”

Cecil had chipmunk cheeks as he looked up. “Yesh. Yesh, we dephinitly do.”

————————————————————————————————————————————————————  
“Wow, this is really cool, Cecil. Thank you.”

Desiree had just pulled out a Dark Owl Records t-shirt from her gift box, nestled among tissue paper. 

“You’re welcome! Your brother mentioned you like music; maybe if you visit sometime we can take you to the store. They’ve got hundreds of records.”

“That’d be sweet!”

Carlos mentally made a note to check the trunk of the car for stowaway sisters before they left.

“And for you, Ms. Ramirez,” Cecil said, pulling out her gift, “I find this to be especially appropriate now.”

She unwrapped the newspaper to find 101 Wheat-Free Recipes, hard bound.

“Cecil, thank you dear! This is very thoughtful of you!” She immediately began pouring over recipes, Des at her side, commenting on things that looked good.

“And for you, Carlos.” 

“Oh- thank you.” Carlos slid his thumbnail under the edge of the tape and flipped it up, revealing a picture frame with-

The two of them inside. They’re walking along the street in Night Vale, hand in hand, both laughing at probably something Cecil had said. There was a rare rainstorm, so it was misty and the glow off the pavement reflected onto the pair like a halo.  
“Cecil…. This is beautiful. Where did you get it?”

“I asked the sherif’s secret police if they had any good photos of us. You really like it?”

“Cecil, it’s perfect.” He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss onto Cecil’s mouth. “Merry Christmas, love.”

“Merry Christmas, sweet Carlos.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you liked what you read, give me a shout. Or you can request something on my tumblr! Cheers! : )

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I’m writing a Christmas fic in March. Sue me.


End file.
